Walk the Talk
by Shadowfang3000
Summary: "The sort of things she did for love." - Fearing that her relationship is stagnating, an unsettled Kokonoe is approached by Litchi Faye-Ling who bears a potential cure to all of her struggles, problems and ills; the power of cosplay, role-play, and a whole lot more!
1. Monday Downs

**Walk the Talk**

**(A/N): **Ah, Blazblue… Where it _all_ began…

My tussle with Blazblue has been a peculiar one at best. It's a series I've always wanted to get into, and while I like the characters and am drawn into it, I've never been able to actually _truly_ get into it if you catch my drift :O

Rest assured, it's been a full year and a month since my last Blazblue fic and it only seems right to kill _three _birds with one stone – the last fic of the year, a request, and my _own_ need – by returning to _another_ continuation of my series of Kokonoe and Ragna fics!

Overall I've been trying to portray the evolution of their relationship over the course of the many Kokonoe fics I've written, and I hope I've been able to get that across… Because this fic is meant to thrive off that, if it goes according to plan!

As always, I somewhat recommend reading the Blazblue fics preceding this in order to get a feel for the sort of relationship that's been festering on my profile for all this time. It isn't necessary to be honest: It's a simple relationship :P

Time for some cosplaying goodness mixed with a nice healthy dose of angst! I hope you enjoy :D

**WARNING: **Spelling errors, OOC portrayals of everyone and anyone, butchery of canon, peculiar inferences of how relationships work from a 17 year old with no friends, language, cosplay, awkward comedy and a Tsundere Kokonoe!

**Chapter One: Monday Downs**

With a back as straight as her laces, Litchi Faye-Ling clopped across the frozen and sterile white floor of the laboratory with a certain spring to her step. She hadn't really been at work for that long, yet already the day seemed to drag on like a carriage fastened to the back of a youthful and sickly mare – grinding to a halt with the _smallest_ inconvenience; be it a stray pebble or a subordinate in the office asking her to do his job for him.

Reaching a circle of desks that was _supposedly_ the department of typing gibberish or something-or-other, she leaned for a batch of perfectly edged papers; each lined with the same monotonous black scrawl that covered every single sheet in this cold, moody lab. Sometimes she wondered if she was the only source of colour this side of Kagutsuchi: That's how far the horizon stretched in such a blank, sprawling building.

Truly, she _probably _didn't intend to distract a nearby theorist clacking away at a keyboard as she reached for the work – her boisterous bust almost looking like it was dragging her down like a pair of weights strapped to her chest. Litchi noticed him suddenly crossing his legs with all the subtlety of a sleep deprived drill sergeant; she didn't _quite_ know why though as she spun around and gracefully slinked away with the documents in tow.

Those mind-numbing clops _continued_ to echo over the constant hum and toil of whirring machines and sizzling concoctions. She didn't actually know what most of the organisation was working towards: All she ever seemed to do was ferry paperwork, drink coffee, patch plasters on joints and occasionally spin on her chair like an easy-to-please youth when no one had an eye on her.

"_We're alone in a vast, meaningless universe. But still…"_

"_You've got to have a laugh."_

It didn't matter to her as she traced the same steps she'd followed a thousand and one times before. She didn't live for work, she lived for what came after: A _lovely_ day at home, with her feet up and a joyous little snooze with her significant other.

Oh, the _games _they could play.

'twas a damn shame that they spent so much time apart, their careers dictating where and when they met – when the planets align, he'd said once over a moonlit dinner, they'd have their moments. Yet at the same time it only seemed to strengthen their days together: so few, yet so… _Succulent._

Thankfully no one could hear her subdued giggle at the prospect, her palms tingling with pins and needles as she heaved her paper stack forward. Once she got home, it would be a night to remember – like every glorious moment she spent with the one she loved.

When she rounded the same corner she'd rounded mere minutes before, she wasn't _entirely_ surprised by what she spotted. True, it was strange to see the pink-haired wit outside of her office on a busy day, yet it was perfectly normal to see her screaming at an inanimate object. A chorus of curses spouted from her mouth, as she stomped on the ground with frustration.

"_**Damn**_** piece of…!"** she growled, throttling a buzzing coffee machine between her boney fists and rocking the rickety table supporting it onto the most extreme sides of its legs. The machine sputtered for a moment, only for its flow of piping hot drink to come to a halt. Nearby workers watched on as their chief continued to scream, sounding less annoyed and more _enraged. _**"**_**Useless**_** heap of…!"** the woman booted the counter with all of her might, stubbing her sandalled toe on the thick, ringing wood. She staggered back with rage as the coffee machine spat out another congealed blob of brown, her well-chipped mug filled to its top. With one last groan she picked up the drink, booting the table with the flat of her foot as she turned away from her newly formed rival. **"… **_**Bitch**_**."**

_That was Kokonoe for you._

Kokonoe had always been one quick to anger, holding a level of tolerance weaker than the last pint of the day. Strolling across the freezing floor lazily, she just managed to catch the staring eyes of her underlings before they could bury their noses back into their papers. Her shoulders held firm, as if eager for a fight. _**"**_**_What_?"** she said bluntly, entirely ignoring the many spillages of her overstocked mug. Taking up the seat as a representative, one of the three on trial began to speak up – only to be cut off after his first vowel. _**"S**_**_hut up_ and get back to work!"**

Her sandals sounding more like lead-lined combat boots than the cheap and flimsy plastic that they were actually made of, Kokonoe stomped towards the inner sanctum that was her small, stuffy and shady office. Like the deranged elder that frequents most bus journeys, she began to lowly mumble and mutter to herself as she fiddled with the cumbersome lock – the occasional "_bastard_" and "_crap_" being audible amongst the garbled language of angrish that she spoke. At last she heaved the door open, slipping through the smallest of gaps before slamming it closed at her six – the "_Do Not Disturb_" sign that sat by the doorknob loudly clanking to the floor with perfect comedic timing. As the dust settled Litchi turned to the workers, who after an exchange of peculiar glances casually returned to their trade.

The spokesman from before noticed Litchi consternation – as well as her _bust_ - and smiled at her warmly, the waft of age-old coffee and digestive biscuits managing to reach her from here. **"She **_**always**_** does that."** He gestured at the door, drawing attention to the many chips and scratches that weeks of punishment and abuse had brought the adjacent walls. Like his colleagues he bowed his head down and return to work, continuing as a mere afterthought. **"No need to worry, it's **_**normal**_** for her."**

Litchi scowled grimly, clumsily setting the documents down alongside the researcher's stall and creaking to her full height upon towering heels. Sounding like a minstrel knocking coconuts together to a rhythm, she confidently strode towards the professor's door as the three scientists nervously looked on - as if she was a Gazelle strutting into a Lion's den to call its pride leader fat.

_And they had the audacity to call themselves scientists._

_Wasn't the first rule of science to pursue the truth no matter the effort required?_

… _Or was it "always wear white lab coats"?_

At the foot of the door Litchi plucked the disturbed "_DND_" sign from its discarded place, dusting off the once pristine warning with the end of her stumpy necktie. She honestly wondered if it had been placed on the door by the trio behind her as a practical joke, or by Kokonoe in an attempt to be as reclusive as possible. While her superior wasn't _particularly_ sociable, something told her that even she wouldn't go so far as to make a _sign_.

It took a single nudge to push the door open, the furious feline having forgotten to turn the lock behind her during her throes of rage. Litchi poked her head through into the shady office, instantly finding Kokonoe at her desk fiddling with her work. The two shared a stare of mutual awkwardness, their eyebrows competing in how high they could rise. **"… Good morning!"** Litchi greeted enthusiastically, seeing the lack of immediate response as permission to hop into the room and close the door behind her – which she did with _particular_ gusto.

A pair of deformed, stale looking marshmellows bobbed and floated upon the thick brown goo that Kokonoe had been informed was fresh coffee, the lukewarm beverage sitting by the woman's bony palms. **"… Hi."** She eventually responded bitterly, scowling so forcefully that her lips seemed to quiver with effort.

Litchi rocked on her heels childishly, hoping that the young woman would continue with the right stimulus. Licking her lips, she spoke with the same boundless enthusiasm she saved for unhappy children and tax collectors.** "… How's the day going then, Kokonoe?"** she asked, glancing at the office's drawn curtains – a slight iridescence through the thin fabric. Litchi snickered comically at the darkness of the room, despite the summer sun riding high and mighty. **"How's the **_**tan**_**?"**

"**Fine."** Kokonoe instantly responded to the first question, either ignoring or missing the second one as her long fingers glided across a computer keyboard with trained speed. The keys roared with use at a constant chorus as she pumped out vowels and constants, her eyes fixed on the screen as she spoke.** "I'm **_**working**_**."**

The lack of a glow upon Kokonoe's graceful spectacles was the first sign that she was lying; the second was the fact that Litchi had a clear view of the monitor from this angle. **"It's not **_**on**_**."** She pointed out, prompting the professor's fingers to freeze in place as if she could feel a loud sneeze developing in her nostrils. Litchi frowned with concern, pacing across the tiny office with the slightest of steps. **"… Kokonoe?"**

She visibly flinched, her arms and eyes still stuck in place. **"What?"**

"… **Be **_**honest**_** with me."** Litchi pried, her ebon hair remaining entirely motionless as she spoke. Kokonoe's hands slunk away from the keyboard and fell to her lap, as did her golden gaze. **"Are you feeling **_**okay**_**?"**

The chief sneered at her wording, her eyes squinting in insult. **"… Do I **_**look**_** like a mental patient to you?"** she asked, taking an awkward moment to switch on the computer that she'd _insisted_ was on moments prior. Litchi merely smirked at the woman's reaction, prompting Kokonoe to frown in sudden defence. **"… Don't do **_**that**_**."**

Her hands met her hips in a sassy, understanding manner.** "Something's the _matter_, isn't it?"** she theorised. Kokonoe's reaction was a confirmation in its entirety, her appearance betraying her insecurity. While it seemed cruel, Litchi knew that there was a method to her madness. **"I'll find out _eventually_, there's no point in hiding it!"**

Kokonoe clutched onto her thighs nervously, letting off a long, drawn out exhalation to try and ease her tense frame. **"I-I _need_ to get this work done, Litchi."** She eventually settled on feebly, raising her chin in defiance. **"Go bother someone else – preferably a _wall_."**

With sudden enthusiasm Litchi leant on the desk upon her elbows, resting her chin within her open palms. Kokonoe visibly scooted back at her sudden action, the proximity and might of her undying stare sending a shiver of uncertainty down her spine as she rolled away on her wheeled chair.** "**_**Boy**_** trouble?"** Litchi suggested, the subtle gulp of the pink-haired scientist being ample enough to confirm her theory. She exclaimed with pride, **"**_**Boy**_** trouble!"**

The professor lowered her head in shame, her knees pressing against one-another with uncharacteristic insecurity. It was _truly_ an adorable thing that whenever the topic of a conversation came to the love life of the feline woman, she'd shift from her usual bitterness to a reserved poise befitting of a timid maiden. She spoke bluntly, completely contradicting the previous metaphor. **"_Go away._"**

"**Only _after_ you tell me."** Litchi demanded stubbornly, wiggling her toes as she leant against the desk. Kokonoe released the tension between her joints, trying to ease her anxious mind.** "You _know_ I want to help you, Kokonoe!"**

Swallowing her pride – or rather, what was _left_ of it – Kokonoe began to drum her nails against her sticky brown desk with a distinct clitter-clatter, the marshmellows continuing to writhe in her mug like the Wicked Witch melting in water. **"… It's just that… **_**Ragna**_**, he…"** she paused with reluctance, honestly wondering if she should unload her issues onto her underling. Before she could even decide on the issue her heart spoke on without her – like the unruly _bastard_ it loved to be. **"… I rarely get to see him nowadays."** Litchi remained silent, her expression considerate as Kokonoe spoke. She felt obligated to continue – as if it would appease the woman before her in some way, shape or form. **"… And he doesn't tell me **_**anything**_**."**

_How many nights and days she'd spent alone._

_She needed more than the warmth of duvets on her person._

"**H-He's just bored of me, I get it…"** Kokonoe argued, her legs crossing with due seriousness. She may have been inexperienced with the complexities of love and relationships, yet it was _entropy_ wasn't it? Even _diamonds_ couldn't last forever. The expression of Litchi caused Kokonoe to have second thoughts about her bitter, cynical interpretation. **"This is **_**normal**_**, isn't it?"**

"**Oh, **_**Kokonoe**_**…"** the gorgeous woman sighed, what was meant to be a tone of worry and care sounding more like sheer condescension at her uncooperative and defeatist attitude. Litchi circled the desk with purpose in her step, making to open the shady office's curtains and bathe the room in burning light.

The professor shrugged her shoulders, staring ahead with a frank expression dominating her features**. "I just don't know what's ahead…"** she muttered, the hints of a whimper emerging from her throat as if her heart was begging her stalwart face to let the tears flow.** "…What would happen if Ragna **_**left**_**…"** she added, only to trail off much to Litchi's confusion. An unannounced snicker as dry as her eyes and ears punctuated the dread in the air, her legs remained still with indignation. **"Listen to me whine and bitch, **_**really**_**."**

With a flash the drapes were pulled apart, the shimmering light reflecting off Kokonoe's computer screen and beaming straight back into her eyes. She squinted in irritation, tearing off her glasses before the light could form collective laser beams and set her eyebrows on fire. A pair of hands oozing with confidence clamped onto her shoulders with firm gentleness – a walking contrast if she'd ever seen one. **"You're just being **_**negative **_**again, Kokonoe."** Litchi diagnosed, trying her _damndest_ to reassure and redirect her defeatist train of thought. **"If **_**I**_** was Ragna and **_**I **_**managed to get the attention of a **_**cute**_** girl like you, I'd do **_**everything **_**and **_**anything **_**to stay with you!"**

Kokonoe of course flushed with irritation – Litchi always spoke about her like this, and constantly seemed to neglect mentioning the _simple_ detail that she had the general personality of a pruned walnut; and was about half as _cooperative_ as one. The professor had always assumed that her subordinate's ignorance to this fact came down to her being "_amply equipped_" for dealing with men already, and as a result of this didn't understand that it was a _tad_ bit harder for some women to hold down men without her good fortune. **"… But what do I **_**do?**_**"** Kokonoe mewled, hating herself for whining yet seeing solace in complaints. It seemed strange, but for some bizarre reason it felt better to whinge about life rather than confront its issues. **"It's so… **_**Confusing**_**."**

Litchi's fingers drummed on her chief's shoulders for what felt like an eternity, a low hum coming from her throat until both actions halted in unison. **"You know what I'd do?"**

"**No."** the grumpy woman muttered. **"That's **_**why**_** I'm asking."**

Litchi didn't even register her response, as if tuning out her snark had become a natural defence of hers to remain enthusiastic for extended periods. Long digits returned to their rhythm, punctuating her guidance without the comfort of a backrub. **"Next time he came home, I'd put on my **_**loveliest**_** clothes..." **She thought aloud, imagining a night and a day with her significant other with vivid details. Litchi grinned gleefully, **"… And give him a night to **_**remember**_**!"**

Kokonoe snarled in response to her openness about sex – like a normal person _probably_ would - batting her hands away from her shoulders and moving to stand. Freezing on bent and trembling knees and letting her thoughts stir in the porridge that was her mind, the pink-haired feline suddenly settle back down onto her chair with realisation. **"… To be honest…"** she pointed out, glancing at her discarded spectacles upon the desktop. Her balled palms pressed at her eyes in fatigue. **"I've got **_**nothing**_** to lose…"**

"**Oh, stop being so **_**fatalistic**_**."** Litchi giggled girlishly, her well-manicured hands returning to Kokonoe's shoulders. More often than not Kokonoe wondered what her workers spent their measly wage packets on – she spent it on taxes and sweets; Litchi probably spent it on _clothes_ and _make-up_. Those same fingers wrapped around her biceps, willing her to stand effortlessly. **"I'm **_**sure**_** this is just a little misunderstanding!"**

_Yeah, right._

_Quite the miscommunication._

Suddenly they were on the move, the tall woman at her back pushing her forward and directing her progress. Kokonoe awkwardly stumbled for balance at this peculiar pace, her legs having difficulty finding a proper footing as she was made to advance with Litchi at the wheel. After two near collisions with random bits of furniture, the professor was brought to her destination in the office: a lonesome mirror, caked in dust yet still beaming with rebounding sunlight. Kokonoe frowned in confusion as she stared at the reflection of herself, and Litchi looking over her shoulder – she didn't even _remember _having a mirror, that's how little she really cared about how she looked.

"**Now then, what do we do with pretty old _you_?"** Litchi chimed like a hairdresser with a rich client's daughter. Her slender digits combed through the professor's pink mane, tugging at the shaped cat-ears that overshadowed her real ones with little concern about the woman who could fire her at any time. Kokonoe scowled as her hair was played with – that rich kid metaphor was making _all_ the more sense. For a second her hair was stretched perfectly straight, before being released and allowed to settle back in place.** "Hmmm… Oh, this'll be **_**so **_**fun."**

Those rusted cogs that for some reason remained submerged in the gloopy soup of the scientist's head began to click into place as Kokonoe started to realise just what she'd gotten herself into. The maniacal gleam that seemed to emanate from Litchi's eye and her longing tone almost made it sound like she'd been waiting to do what she was about to do for her _entire_ life. **"… Make up?" **Kokonoe croaked, hoping that her subordinate could still comprehend simple language; the brief silence that ensued made her feel like she said something stupid, making her quickly slap on a continuation. **"… O-Or a hair brush… Or **_**something**_** like that?"**

"**No, no, _no_!"** Litchi cried, resting her chin upon her chief's shoulder. **"For an operation like **_**this**_**, we'll have to bring in the **_**big **_**guns**!" she patted her head condescendingly, only needing an "_aroo_?" to add to the effect. **"**_**Don't**_** move."** She commanded as she slinked away, zipping off before Kokonoe could even ask what she was planning. The door slowly dragged across the cheap and rugged carpet, before the timid snap of wood on wood punctuated Litchi's departure.

Following the command to the letter, Kokonoe awkwardly stood in place like a prisoner in line. She stared at herself in the mirror's glow, and her counterpart likewise did the same. Her expression seemed so _bitter_, her posture defeated and her eyes bagged with stress and worry. Would Ragna _really _be the type of person who'd abandon her?

Kokonoe fumbled for her pockets, trying to hide the tenseness of her form from her own eyes. He was a born drifter that would _rarely_ stay in one place for too long. Maybe she'd served her use, and he'd moved on?

_There were plenty of prettier girls around._

_Plenty of nicer ones._

_Plenty of better ones to pick._

The professor gritted her teeth, beating back that instinctive hatred that always tended to flare alongside her anxiety. What the _hell_ had happened to her over the past year? Not long ago she was a bastion of defiance and self-sufficiency, yet now she stood facing a mirror waiting for a ditsy woman to play dress-up with her so she could try and win the heart of a god damned _bloke. _Should she have even bothered trying to settle down like she was part of a fourteen year-old's clichéd self-inserted romance fiction?

It wasn't until the combined racket of a slamming door and ragged breaths seized her senses that she noticed Litchi's return, what appeared to be an entire department store's supply of clothing laying draped over her forearm like a rainbow-coloured bulging growth. Regaining her composure she hauled the load onto the office's desk, almost sending the bubbling concoction that had once been a mug of marshmellow and sludge to the floor. Kokonoe flexed her shoulders and maintained her hands-in-pocket rebellious façade, wondering if Litchi was grinning or _grimacing_. **"Damn, didn't think you'd bring your **_**entire **_**wardrobe here."**

Litchi's overwhelming enthusiasm quickly welled as she turned her back on her boss, patting through all of the clothing loudly whilst humming a jolly little tune to herself like a big-breasted Mary Poppins. She shook her head in response to Kokonoe's comment, **"These are just the _bare essentials_!" **she noted, counting through each slither of fabric with a licked finger in employ. Litchi fell into a pout, hanging her head in defeat.** "A pity I don't have **_**more**_** on hand…"**

For the briefest of moments Kokonoe broke her self-imposed duty, curiously moving to glance over her shoulder at the goods that she had brought in. Through the myriad of colours and tones she spotted various exotic tassels and stylisations – the sort of things you'd expect on models at a catwalk show. Her cheeks felt rather warm to say the least, "**… Y-You want **_**me**_** to try these?"**

Litchi was quick to pick up on the grumpy woman's reddened flush and changing visage, smirking with cruel satisfaction as she plucked an outfit from the mess. **"How about _this_?"** she offered, pushing a red bundle into Kokonoe's chest which her hands quickly wrestled over before it fell. **"How about it?"**

She turned the fancy garment between her fingers, feeling the smooth and thin fabric with the pads of her fingertips. To call it soft or nice would be the understatement of a _century_ – it seemed far much different to what she was used to wearing. Kokonoe held it by the shoulders and stretched outwards, unfolding the clothing to its full length. **"… Isn't this a **_**kimono**_**?"**

Litchi blinked. **"Yes?"**

Kokonoe scowled with scepticism, continuing to fumble with the foreign outfit regardless. She'd never worn something like it in the past – she was the sort of person who had seven copies of the same outfit sitting in her wardrobe for every day. **"… Why in the hell would you **_**ever**_** need all of these?"** she wondered aloud, noting the fit; they weren't Litchi's size, but rather a perfect fit for _her._ Litchi's unchanging expression became just a little bit more unsettling, gaining an almost psychotic quality to it. Kokonoe did her best to shroud her fascination – a field she appeared rather _lacking_ in. **"… **_**F**_**-**_**Fine**_**, I'll try it on."**

It took a discomforting amount of time to convince Litchi to leave the room so that she could get changed, who shuffled away in defeat and weakly closed the door in her wake. Her usual gear crumpled and discarded upon her desk chair, Kokonoe silently clothed herself in the gentle fabric that the kimono offered. It felt light and free – as if a literal _and_ metaphorical weight had been lifted off her shoulders for just a mere moment of reprieve. The professor flexed her arms strangely, trying to adapt to the bagginess of the sleeves.

_She could practically feel Litchi's ear against the door._

_Just one more enigma on a beaten path._

"**Y-You can come in." **she stuttered, her own voice catching her off guard after such an extended period of silence. No doubt Litchi would spout compliment after compliment, but at _least _it was another person's opinion. Within moments of entry Litchi was tending to her chief's hair with obsessive passion, determined to make Kokonoe _look_ and _feel_ as good as she truly was.

Holding a hairpin in her mouth, Litchi eagerly fiddled and played with Kokonoe's head of hair as if it was an artist's canvas. **"Let's just tie this up…"** she murmured in concentration, occasionally sparing a glance at the mirror to spot the professor staring at the ensuing evolution of her appearance. She forced her back straight and stiff to prevent the garment bagging at the waist, looking just as uncomfortable as it felt. Regardless, she certainly thought it looked nice – if not a _bit_ corny and traditional for her usual tastes. Litchi's reflection stared at hers upon the glass, an expression of ponderance filling her lip. **"Too _reserved_." **She eventually concluded after a chorus of "_hmmm_"'s, much to Kokonoe's disappointment. With one firm tug the hairpin exited the hive of her hair, letting the pink locks collapse across her face. **"Not enough _sex appeal_."**

Fording through the shroud of her messied hair, Kokonoe glared at the young woman behind cover. She still wasn't too fond of her wording; wasn't it _weird_ for people to talk about sex like it was the daily visit to the corner shop? As Litchi spun away towards the pile to spear her next choice of wearing, Kokonoe begrudgingly threw her hair back into place – the façade of femininity that she'd had for that moment melting away as quickly as her appearance.

"**Next!"** Litchi announced, sending yet another bundle ahead as if tossing a curve ball at a lil' slugger. The next garment felt rougher and heavier as it was forced into her outspread palms – thick denim, and strong too. She smirked as the outfit jingled metallically in Kokonoe's hands, folding her arms to contain her ample bosom. **"That's a lot more **_**adventurous**_**."**

Holding out the clothes, the professor paused with judgement as she gazed upon the peculiar uniform. A significant portion of her mind was curious as to why in all of _Kagutsuchi _that Litchi had something like this within her cupboards, yet a somewhat larger section of her gruel-like brain didn't want to _consider _the fact. **"Get out of here."** Kokonoe growled as Litchi made no attempt to move, pointing at the door with a flappy kimono sleeve. **"This isn't a _show_."**

She reluctantly complied to her superior's demands, sulking through the door and leaving her to her own devices once more. Timidly the first outfit slipped away, leaving her pale flesh exposed to the chill of the lab's many offices. At the very least the next set of garments was a lot more modern - she doubted that she'd have any issues putting it on, or _standing_ in it for that matter. A heavy weight jingled upon her belt as she readied the second set of gear for the day - they were _fuzzy_, she'd just noticed.

It was a police outfit.

A bloody police outfit, with pink tights and _short-shorts._

_Regular shorts would've been strange enough._

Her ears nestled snugly under a navy blue beret, a large and comical badge adorning it claiming that the wearer was "_The Interrogator_", Kokonoe awkwardly tilted it to a jaunty angle, absently suckling on a fresh lollipop to complete the effect. She never quite got why _anyone _would be turned on by a policewoman - you'd think that the very real risk of being arrested at any time would do wonders for the libido. The professor fumbled for the oversized belt that hung loosely across her overly slim waist, feeling for the fuzziness that covered those strange handcuffs.

The lady herself was once again summoned for her informed critique, no doubt having select the outfit out of a bout of wisdom. Litchi wandered in like a torturer at the chamber, circling the shorter woman as she stood entirely still at the room's sole mirror. Arriving at her back she stared at their combined reflection, fiddling with the angle of Kokonoe's hat much to her irritation. She scowled as the beret was sat at strange positions, only for Litchi to suddenly squish it down with the flat of her palm to cover Kokonoe's eyes. **"Not you!"** Litchi snickered mockingly, **"Not you _at all_!"**

Kokonoe growled in a way that sounded more like a girly sulk, her teeth clenching onto her well-suckled lolly as she clumsily readjusted the hat to its stylish position. She thought it looked quite _cool_ in retrospect - although she wasn't the type of person who bought her own clothes or understood the world of fashion. **"But I _like_ this one…"**

**"You _like_ short shorts?"** Litchi concluded, hearing exactly what she wanted to hear from the pink-haired scientist before her. Testingly she tugged at the hem of the stylised shorts, purring in thought and intrigue as she straightened them out. Kokonoe raised one of her miniscule eyebrows curiously as she did so, wondering if there was some sort of unwritten _law_ that she was infringing with her preferences.

She fidgeted on the spot, plucking the damp sweet from between her lips to speak clearly.** "... They're _easy_ and _comfortable_ to wear?"**

**"_Fascinating_..."** Litchi muttered with the genuine curiosity befitting of her qualifications, stubbornly pushing the blue beret back to her preferred position. Kokonoe grumbled in defiance as the woman skipped back to the pile, standing proudly with her legs apart and her arms folded as she stared at the mirror. All she needed was a colleague in the same pose to her side to make the _perfect_ cover for a cheap porno novel. Litchi dove into the stack again amidst a declaration of progress. **"_Another_!"**

The jingle of bells and puffy padding signaled that the next victim had been chosen, as the professor's subordinate tore another outfit out of the snug safety of the stack. With a whip of the hand and an utterance of the phrase "_et voila_!", it was presented to her in its full glory upon a firm hanger. Kokonoe had to manually pull down her eyebrow to stop it launching off of her face and landing in the frozen mug of filth at her desk.** "… Remember that anime comment?"** she reminded, recognising the design to a moderate extent. **"Because _I_ sure do."**

Litchi playfully held it infront of herself and posed seductively, kicking up a leg in such a corny manner that her hair may have well turned gold. **"This one cost a _lot_ you know!" **she pointed out, gesturing at a tag on its sleeve deeming it "_limited edition_" and a "_rare collectable_", "**From a very popular series _infamous _for its appeal to men!"**. She offered it to her as if it were a holy sceptre, bowing her head as she passed on the greatest weapon in her arsenal.

Kokonoe held it by its hanger sceptically, like a butcher examining his latest cut as it dripped all manner of giblets onto the floor. It felt surprisingly heavy in her hand - no doubt all the cutesy tassels and ribbons added up in their vast quantity. She shot a judging glare at Litchi, **"... You mean the types of men with bushy beards and _several_ chins?"**

She frowned in distaste at her words, making for the door by her own will this once. **"Give it a _chance_, please?"** she begged, doing all that she could to will her chief on. It was evident that Litchi _genuinely_ wanted this scheme of theirs - forty minutes in the making - to succeed for the better. She poked her head through the crack in the door before it gently snapped closed. **"_Everyone _loves _maids_!"**

_Oh yes._

_She would know, wouldn't she?_

_She sincerely hoped that it was freshly washed._

Kokonoe stared at the anime-esque maid outfit with the generic bitter expression that frequented her visage, pouring gallons and gallons of judgement upon the expensive garment as she spun the hanger between her fingers. She'd never _quite_ understood the whole "_mahou shoujo_" fascination in culture - what was it that blokes found particularly enticing about magical maids that followed their every whim and could do pretty much _anything_ and _everything _after a one minute stock animation?

_Sort of answered your own question there._

Fiddling with the handcuffs upon her faux police belt, she considered giving the the black and white clothing a second chance – maybe it would look _cute_ on her? It would certainly add a bit more shape to her otherwise genderless form; for once she wouldn't have to worry about the sharpness of her _elbows_ causing grievous bodily harm to anyone in her proximity. Wouldn't Ragna _eat_ something like that right up?

_Did Ragna even like cute things?_

Her tails flicked in discontent, emitting a jingle from the bells tied to their tips. **"I'm gonna sound like Father Christmas coming down the damn road..."** Kokonoe realised as she shook the maid outfit gently, letting its knee-length length sway to a halt. With a steady hand she tossed the oversized beret away, letting it lay crumpled amidst Litchi's pile. She fiddled with the first button of her shirt, **"... I can't _believe_ I'm doing this, but..."**

_The sort of things she would do for love._

Soon enough she stood nestled within the hot confines of the priceless outfit, shuffling around in the tight, brown, slip-on shoes that _supposedly_ suited this outfit perfectly. She missed the freedom and comfort her sandals offered in an instant, and felt _very_ warm inside the fluffy and bulky outfit - we're talking the misty eyed, dizzy mind, clumsy footed sort of "_very warm_" you wouldn't want to be suffering from in a laboratory setting. Kokonoe pressed her arms together in a fidget, the chest of the dress gathering to form a rather natural and round looking bulge. She did a doubletake - albeit a heat-exhausted one.

_That was a plus at least._

_Gone from a triple A to a double in one fell swoop._

Heeding a subtle summon Litchi shot into the room, hopping with bounding enthusiasm at the sight of the professor clad in the dress. **"How does it _feel_?"** she pressed joyously in an instant, lit up with enough happiness to power an _entire_ hierarchical city through a harsh winter. To be perfectly honest, she hadn't expected someone as stubborn as Kokonoe to submit to her request. Her hands fell to their home away from home upon the chief's shoulders, willing her to face the mirror. **"Come on, _tell_ me!"**

Bowing her head in shame, she inhaled and exhaled in a lame attempt to adjust to the heavy outfit over time. Her knees knocked together silently as she struggled to keep the straight form that the uniform naturally promoted, and her face glowed as the furnace that covered her body like a wooly oven mitt blasted on. **"I-It feels _really_ hot…"**

Litchi chuckled, **"Oh, you're just _embarrassed _is all."** she stressed, squeezing her elbows reassuringly. Like mummy preparing her daughter for her first day at primary school she fiddled with the puffy shoulder-pads that the uniform presented - for someone with _her _frame, it made her look like a professional football player. **"It makes you look _so_ cute!"**

Combining embarrassment with heat-induced fatigue surely did wonders for one's complexion, as Kokonoe shifted tones like a drunken chameleon and turned more pink that her hair. She stared at the supposedly "_cute_" reflection that stood before her – it looked _incredibly_ dorky and felt _very_ impractical, but it certainly bore a strange sense of self confidence with it– as if she had quite literally covered and hidden the cold exterior she usually showed to people and allowed an opening for a greater nature to surface and show its colours.

_Well, whatever colour was left to show in that black hole of hers._

Innocently Kokonoe raised her delicate hands to fiddle with the bunched locks and bands of her hair, yet she was quickly thrown into confusion as Litchi yelled in protest. **"_Stop_!"** she squealed, shielding her face as if being overwhelmed by the shining light of the second coming. Her hand came to her heart, which she clutched in terror. **"_Please_!"**

**"What's up?"** she said to the reflection, pivoting on her heel like a clumsy ballerina - it was _all_ she could do to turn without spending and ice-age wiggling her feet. Litchi's eyes were wide and bright, which _generally_ wasn't the best of signs.** "Seen a ghost?"**

Her hand fell against the desk in submission, her pulse slowing as she rested. **"Need a breather…"** Litchi admitted, her eyes remaining fixed at her toes. It was just _impossible _to look at Kokonoe for an extensive period safely in this state – she looked _too_ cutesy for her fragile heart to handle. Like an alcoholic fighting the urge to drink she gave the slightest of peeks. **"... You're giving me a_ heart attack._"**

_Overdoses of sugar and sweetness tended to do that._

Kokonoe growled angrily at her comment, putting her hands on the hips of her broad dress proudly - yet this only made Litchi fumble and gasp even _more_. 'twas a painful and unavoidable cycle; even when she was _angry_, the outfit just brought out everything that was cute about the professor and put emphasis on it. Kokonoe was about to fold her arms in withdrawal, but quickly stopped herself in order to prevent _killing_ her. **"T-This'll _do_." **she decided, pivoting around and returning to her image in the mirror self-consciously. With genuine effort she tried to smile nicely like the poster girl of a summer trend magazine, but her lips quickly fell to a frown at how it looked - less _cutesy, _more _maniacal_. The floor creaked with movement, **"… Hey?"**

Like the routed survivor of a crushing defeat, Litchi began stumbling away from the professor - her mission complete for the moment. **"G-Go get them _tiger_..."** she announced as she left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. It was all up to Kokonoe from this point on; she could only hope that her "_apprentice_" could work the magic on her lonesome. She was still perfectly audible as she wandered off, **"Dear me... I need a _coffee_!"**

The chief turned back to the mirror one last time, her face looking as worried as her heart - if not _threefold_. This would be it then; All of her worries and fears, all the terror and restless nights, _all_ of that had culminated into her standing in front of a mirror looking like a reject from a fancy dress party. Awkwardly she tried to curtsy her reflection, but it only took a moment of struggling to stand for her to give up on such a corny gesture. She needed to get back, practice and prepare; she had the _instruments_ for her task, now all she needed was the _will_.

With new-found determination she began to shuffle towards the desk, the gloopy brown mug by her papers rocking and sloshing waves and tides as the room shook with effort. It took at least two _minutes_ for her to cross the distance with her peculiar method of transportation, and while it was useful in generating enough static electricity to subdue a full-grown elephant she wasn't _best_ pleased with how little breath she could muster by the end of it. She leant against the desk, wiping her brow of sweat.

_She'd probably need to get changed first._

X

_(A/N): Not too proud of how this turned out, but I'm only setting the scene for the actual main section of this story!_

_Surpised me how long this intro turned out to be. In case you were wondering, this story was supposed to be a single oneshot with this scene as well as the happenings of the next chapter happening in it... Rest assured, that didn't turn out well O_o_

_Well, let's just wait and see what happens in the future! (Knowing my luck, it'll probably turn out shorter :P)_

_Also, INDIRECT GOT AND POKEMON REFERENCES ARE VERY INDIRECT INDEED._


	2. A Table for Two

**(A/N): **Onwards we march to chapter two!

After retrieving her latest weapon – a fluffy frock – from a scandalous woman, Kokonoe hurries home to prepare herself for her operation! However, plans rarely survive the field of combat: Just what will happen when she confronts Ragna, I wonder?

… That was a strange paragraph for an A/N, usually I just ramble D:

Anywho, as I said before let's move!

**WARNING: **Spelling errors, OOC portrayals of everyone and anyone, butchery of canon, peculiar inferences of how relationships work from a 17 year old with no friends, language, cosplay, awkward comedy and a Tsundere Kokonoe!

**Chapter Two: A Table for Two**

_She'd never been one for interior decorating._

Nevertheless, it wasn't too cumbersome to cobble together some random bits and bobs scattered across home and deploy them for use like warheads across borders for incoming conflict. It certainly _felt_ as tense as a nuclear holocaust – her shoulders held stiff as she fumbled through her lot.

After what felt like an age of working her fingers to the bone, the fancily dressed Kokonoe gazed upon the product of her labour with a pleased glint in her reflective ambers. This steadily degenerated into a mild glimmer, only to finally settle on a dull orange - like a tropical juice stain on the front of your trousers.

The maid - or _professor_ if you're feeling nit-picky – tugged at the clumsy hem of her bubbly dress. **"Well then."** she sighed, having no idea where to put her hands without a pair of pockets to take advantage of. **"That's great. That's **_**great." s**_he settled with slapping her boiled and greasy forehead in despair, growling pathetically._** "**__**Shit**_**."**

Literally all she'd managed to achieve through her excruciating efforts was to turn down the lights to give them a subtle flicker, and drape white towels and blankets over everything and anything flat to make it look posh and classy. Hell, you could _clearly _see the buttons and stitching where the duvet met the blanket.

_But Ragna wouldn't notice, would he?_

_If all went to plan, he'd be a bit too busy focusing on something else._

"_**Damn it**_**."** The pink-haired minx snarled in discomfort, roughly pulling down on the rim of her cutesy frock. She'd always hated wearing skirts – it made her _so _self-conscious about her legs, and stopped her from doing anything without making sure that nothing that should _remain_ unseen was on display. Still, Litchi had said it looked cute, hadn't she?

Like a group of popular kids were shooting unruly glances at her across the locker room from the left, Kokonoe stealthily snuck a peek at the still reflection of herself upon the living room's single, forlorn mirror. Timidly she fiddled with the tassels of her blouse – silken and soft between her dainty fingers.

_As stupid as it sounded, she didn't mind looking girly and cutesy._

_Certainly beat looking like a wandering corpse who'd just escaped the morgue._

It would've looked quite romantic as she stared into the pair of sparkling eyes before her – if only it wasn't her reflection, mind. Despite her words, her expression remained as neutral and withdrawn as it usually did, which generally killed the effect that the maid outfit she'd been provided with was supposed to create in the first place. There was no helping it: She'd need to work _with_ it; I scratch your back, you scratch mine.

For a moment her upper lip trembled and twitched as if she was suppressing a laugh, her hands resting upon her lap and scrunching at the front of her dress. With no sharp scare chord to warn the world her lips curled into a barbaric grin, the jagged row of cat-like teeth that frequented her gums having a chilling effect no doubt.

_The best word she could think of to describe it was "sharky"._

Giddily she plumped at the delicate dress with her scrunching fingers, kissing her teeth in distaste.** "Come on now."** she grumbled. Experimentally she pressed her knees together, trying her best to look less unruly and more gentle and approachable – in other words, the exact _opposite_ of what she'd spent the vast majority of her life trying to be like. **"You're a cute girl. You're a _beauty_."**

Taking a letter from the oldest of books, Kokonoe slowly bowed over like a rickety drawbridge being lowered across a moat. After an awkward pause she hastily reeled back in thought. What could she do after that? Scouring for information she met her own reflected eyes once more, and for the briefest of moments was captivated by the cuteness of her clothing. She returned to her brainstorm with a snarl and a shake of the head.

**"You're the type who skips down meadows. _Come on_."** she insisted, desperate for _something_ to amplify the effect of the uniform. After a moment she recalled the secret weapon of hers that had often gotten her in trouble in the past - her small, fuzzy, delicate little cat ears. Chiming with movement the bell upon her tails rang as she raised her hands, assuming the most sinful of positions by resting her wrists upon her crown. Kokonoe blinked twofold, **"Uhh… _Meow_?"** she mewled unenthusiastically, waving her hands back and forth. All this did was make her let off a snicker drier than a white wine as she mimicked a raking claw with her fingers. **"Grrr, _hiss_!"**

_What the hell was she doing?_

If someone walked in on her right now, they'd probably be quite quick to back away and forget she ever existed. She shook her head in judgement, and returned to a much more mature and logical pursuit - practicing her smile once more, as if she was trying to learn an ancient art. This wasn't a time for clowning around – this was serious, even if she _was_ cosplaying as a magical maid from a comic book made for teenagers and lowlifes whilst simultaneously pretending to be a stereotypical depiction of a cat.

_That was a mouthful._

Part of her knew that she was acting like a complete idiot at the moment to try and hide and block out the fear from her waking mind. Probably the entire _point_ of the last few hours was to try and delay the inevitable conversation that loomed over the horizon like the rising moon on a bitter black night. She'd been able to get this far with the repeated - if not _stubborn_ - encouragement of Litchi, yet she was no longer here to push her along. Kokonoe's doubtful and ever-hopeless mind was eager to turn tail and run as the moment of fate drew closer.

Swallowing uncomfortably, she gently removed her glasses and silently blinked for focus. Her palms delicately tended to her eyes, pressing and rubbing against her heavy eyelids. **"This'll work."** she reassured herself with a forlorn sigh, flexing her strained neck with an absence of clicks. Her trusty glasses returned to their place atop her nose like the visor of a valorous knight trotting along on his gallant steed.** "It'll _work_."**

She probably spent a full ten minutes continuing her practice, grinning at herself for extensive periods as if she'd seen someone with their flies open. Of course she made little improvement over the time she'd allocated herself - try as you might, you can't master a _symphony_ with a cup of coffee, a cute frilly frock and ten minutes to spare. Telling herself that it would be fine wouldn't have the effect of magically making everything better, no matter how hard she dreamed and wished for it. This was going to hurt a _lot; _regardless of what was bandied, the wounds would last a while.

_The front door rattled._

_The porch light clinked._

_Showtime._

She must've lost track of time. Frozen on the spot, she hastily tore her glasses away and brushed at her eyelashes to test their bouncing black curve. Not entirely satisfied - but certainly out of time - she hastily tried to throw her spectacles back on in a classy and talented manner, only to poke herself directly in the eye with one of their spindly legs. Squealing in pain, she hobbled off into the kitchen amidst a chorus of curses whilst rubbing her face and biting her sloppily chapsticked lips in eye-watering agony.

_And they said childbirth was excruciating._

It was typical, wasn't it? She'd been so focused on perfecting her appearance that she hadn't even stopped to consider the dinner plan itself. What had she planned to do? Just sit there looking all cutesy, offering herself to Ragna to do whatever the hell he liked for the rest of the day?

_Well... Yes, actually._

Like a barefooted child skipping across the chilly bathroom at night, Kokonoe made for the kitchen counter and quickly dug through the breadbin in search of something to craft. This needed to look professional _and_ romantic; although she only knew how to make instant noodles, cheese toasties, and on the night _perhaps _an oven pizza. Desperately she clawed for _anything _to cook.

In the meantime, the returning Ragna gently closed the heavy front door behind him as he curiously paced through the living room. It was strange for the lounge's light to be left on without anyone about, what with Kokonoe often grilling him over how much of a toll it took on her pay packet. It was also a tad bit stranger that _everything_ in the room was covered - head to toe - in bare blankets and towels, 'though he'd certainly seen weirder things across Kagutsuchi in his eventful – if not _brief_ – life.

He had to admit that it was actually a little bit unsettling, although like Kokonoe he often returned after a hectic night to find the house totally empty. **"Koko?"** he called lazily, cautiously pacing through the living room with balanced steps. The overhanging light seemed to be low and flickering – was the bulb dying, or had it been left like that by someone? **"... You around, Kokonoe?"**

Rounding the living room's sofa - or the coffee table, he couldn't _quite_ tell - Ragna made for the kitchen. He couldn't really say why, but whenever he came home it was always his first stop regardless of whether or not he planned to make a meal. As expected the room was just as empty on his first glance, although it seemed that their novelty breadbin had been left wide open; crumbs aplenty covering the breadboard beside it.

_There was a trail._

Subtle but entirely visible, this trail of morsels and specks moved portwards across the kitchen counter. Like the detective he wasn't Ragna followed this path, until his mismatched eyes at last landed on something notable - Kokonoe, standing _literally_ right next to him. Facing seithr-infused monsters and barbaric generals within the NOL had disensitised him to terror enough to stop him screaming like a feeble little girl, but it certainly made him flinch and stare - her eyes were bloodshot, after all.

_Almost as if she'd just stabbed herself in the eye._

_As if that would ever happen._

Kokonoe returned the stare with the same wide-eyed confusion and discomfort as the man before her. Unsteadily she wobbled upon the tips of her toes, her hands held tightly behind her back as she looked upwards like a missile. Ragna was such a tall man – he almost seemed to _curve_ and loom over her with his unnatural stature. There was the sort of height that most found attractive, and the sort of height that just made you uncomfortable - the Bloodedge was the latter, even if he was the _sexiest _hunk of muscle around. Strange how someone whose presence should have comforted her now filled her with a sense of pure, unbridled _fear_. Subtly her hands reached around, clutching onto the hem of her dress anxiously.

It was obvious where the topic of this conversation would start. Ragna shook a pointing finger at the woman like he was berating an unruly hound, his brow lopsided. **"... Why're you wearing a _maid_ outfit?"** he began, only for his wiggling digit to freeze in place. Their stare held firm; awkward as it had been.** "I never thought I'd ask someone _that_ question…"**

She remained perfectly still - caught in the headlights by a question she had no satisfying answer for. What could she say?: That she was zipped up in fancy dress to try and win over his libido? Kokonoe put emphasis on straightening her posture to try and appear confident and self-secure - 'though if her back was any straighter she'd break her spine in several places. Her twin tails remained low and motionless, the thin pink lengths trying their best to maintain her faltering balance in her strange, thickly heeled shoes. Racing to a sudden decision Kokonoe responded with a bowed head, which after a long while she decided to raise again with lightning speed - having inadvertently waited just enough for it to catch Ragna off guard.

_This was going to be a very interesting conversation._

**"Hello sir."** She settled on with a mechanical tone, sounding like she was reading off a placard during a particularly unenthusiastic school play. Try as she might to look him in the eye, she could only look _through_ him as if dazed and confused. She couldn't bear to stare into his stalwart colours; over-exposure would ensue. **"How was your day sir."** she said, rather than asked.

His reaction was delayed to say the least, her strange and off-beat voice being unsettling - in lack of a better term - during this peculiar circumstance. Cautiously he leant towards her; ever so slightly to examine her just a little bit more closely. **"… _Wuh_?"** he mumbled, waving in front of Kokonoe's eyes to try and spawn some sort of response. She only seemed to lean back without a change in her expression, like a slingshot or ballista being prepped for combat.

Without the comical "_boing-oing-oing_" that was expected, Kokonoe returned to a straight stance as Ragna pulled away. **"You must be tired sir."** she said, upgrading her mechanical monotone by changing it to a slightly _different_ monotone. Audibly she blinked as she sought a continuation: this improvisation business wasn't exactly something she seemed to be that good at. She sounded less like the daughter of an all-powerful being and one of the most intelligent scientific wits in the known world and more like your average mushy girl lead in a teen film who only exists to giggle and look cutesy. Kokonoe rocked on her heels in contemplation, causing Ragna's head to bob slightly in pursuit. **"I _insist_ that… U-Ummm…"**

Raising his chin defensively, Ragna _seriously_ began to wonder if a screw'd fallen loose from the professor's head during one of her many scientific experiments of questionable ethical quality. Kokonoe had seemed rather off those few times that they'd seen eachother as of late, and part of him worried that she'd gone and ballsed something up in the meantime. His consideration and reflection was certainly kind, although it distracted him enough for a sudden gentle force against his chest to catch him off guard. It was _incredibly_ feeble and weak, but the surprise alone was enough to make him stumble back.

**"Rest!"** Kokonoe insisted, pushing him out of the kitchen timidly. **"Y-Yeah, that's it… Uhhh…"** the professor swallowed in thought, hanging her head and mumbling incoherently to herself like a mad cat lady for a moment only to heave it back forcefully with a new expression in mind. Like the cutest lead girl she could think of Kokonoe tilted her head to the left as if a particularly heavy earring was hanging off the side of her lobes. Her creepy smile - little progress having been made in that department - stretched across her maw in its jagged glory as she awkwardly let her tails mingle together to form the corny shape of a heart. The bells jingled fairly; the _perfect_ juxtaposition. **"_Please_?"**

She took Ragna's initial lack of reaction as a bad sign. He _didn't_ like it – but on the bright side, he probably didn't _hate_ it; the glass was half _full_ on this occasion. Kokonoe roughly nudged him along, slipping through the open door and gathering static upon the fuzzy felt carpet of the lounge. The two had quickly evolved from a silent pair of awkwardness into a more advanced _shuffling_ pair of awkwardness. **"… I _can_ walk you know."**

Devoting a few priceless seconds to thought, Kokonoe revised her tactics and sheathed her bestial teeth for the moment. "**Sir needs to be nice and comfortable."** she tried to say in that strange third person manner that was supposedly innocent; although all that managed to do was make her sound slightly confused. Roughly she continued to push and prod him forward, entirely defeating the point of making him "_nice and comfortable_" as they stumbled over the bumpy, unkempt carpet. Kokonoe exclaimed in a clearly panicked tone, reassuring both Ragna and _herself_. **"_Relax_!"**

With one final shove Ragna flopped over the arm of the living room sofa and fell flat on his back, his legs draped across the arm haphazardly. Kokonoe quickly circled around it like a shark with its prey as he struggled to sit up on his elbows. **"What the hell are you _doing_?"** he demanded in confusion, grumbling with effort as he fixed his position. As a required test he slapped his cheek - one of the pair on his _face_, mind - only to wince as nothing beyond the usual stab of pain occurred. **"… Worth a shot I guess."**

Ignorant to his confusion, Kokonoe reached her destination before him and kneeled as if she was sat at a low coffee table, bowing her head submissively. She had absolutely _no_ bloody idea what she was doing now, but beyond running off and screaming or curling up into a little ball and bawling her eyes out it seemed she had no other choice but to keep going. Already she'd _completely_ missed the intention of starting a meaningful dialogue with the man she loved; she should've just given up when she had the chance, but she was dug too deep now. She inhaled a calming dose of oxygen and nitrogen, **"_Command_ me."**

Ragna blinked with an audible squelch. **"_Command_ you?"**

**"A-Anything you want."** she nodded, clutching onto the hem of her dress in an attempt to puff out the fabric of her blouse's chest. Kokonoe stared intently at Ragna's feet, as if she was a dog and a blob of butter had fallen onto his toes. **"… _Master_…?"**

**"… Alright, don't call me _master _for starters."** the renegade grumbled in distaste, still not entirely sure about what the confused feline woman was up to. Most men would probably _dream _of seeing their significant other in such a submissive state, but there was one thing that changed his feelings - he wasn't _like_ most men, was he? He leaned forward, hunching over on his seat like a middle aged man reaching for a beer can as he spoke to his kids about relationships.** "… And explain what's going on here, for the love of _God_."**

**"… I'm just being your _maid_, sir."** Kokonoe insisted, as if the day's occurrence was part of the norm and it was _Ragna _who was acting off. Pressing the tips of her spread fingers against the floor she hobbled to her feet, slowly standing straight like an unstable bipod before she offered a surprisingly smooth and talented curtsy - save for her continuously trembling limbs spoiling the professional effect. She returned to speaking with a flatness so flat that it made her chest look ample, her hands mimicking paws once more as she girlishly clawed at the air. **"Nya."**

Ragna had to admit, he never thought he'd see someone outside of Taokaka or someone _mocking _Taokaka to make a sound like that seriously. **"Wuh?"**

Kokonoe glanced left and right over her spectacles, wondering what he was missing.** "Nya."**

**"Nya?"** Ragna repeated curiously.

She pursed her lips, appearing discouraged. **"… Nya."**

He looked unimpressed, exhaling loudly. **"Nya…"**

The maid quickly went to move on, realising that all she'd manage to do for the past few minutes was utter the word "_nya_" in several different tones whilst simultaneously alienating the man before her even further. She fell back to her knees in one swift movement befitting of a gymnast's ribbon, or at _least_ a round of applause. **"… A-Anything else _master_?"**

**"I'm _fine_."** Ragna grumbled, accepting that the maid apparent wouldn't be dropping that word any time soon. Fidgeting on the spot he changed his seating; it just didn't feel _right_, and this was coming from someone with no concept of how to read _anyone_. Whatever had led to the odd situation that they had found themselves in, it wasn't something _good_. **"… _Really. Fine."_**

_She just didn't know what to do._

**"… I'll make dinner."** Kokonoe shuddered weakly, her facade of a stoic maid faltering for just long enough to give way to her normal, grumpy, defeatist tone. She could instantly tell that Ragna had noticed as she rose to her feet properly, and was about to add something on to make amends only to change her mind and march off with another, less enthusiastic curtsy. Something told her that she'd _quickly_ regret the choice she'd made.

Upon heavy feet she plodded into the kitchen, letting loose a shrill, pathetic sigh to the ceiling light and its settled dust. The discomfort of her blouse was becoming _unbearable, _and despite the efforts of her hooked finger loosening its top button it seemed no salvation from reality was ahead. From the moment Ragna had arrived, he'd had less interest in her than he'd have in a stranger on a busy street intersection. There was no point in scrambling for excuses hidden deep at the bottom of the jar: He didn't give half a_ shit_ about her efforts, hell; he probably didn't want to be _involved_ with her at all.

She'd been a daft _fool_ for trying to prevent the inevitable. Why had she even tried to cling onto him and try in the first place? Had she really lost so much of herself over the past year with Ragna to resort to - quite _literally_ - _kneeling_ for his affection and forgiveness? What had happened to the strong and independent woman she was _feared _to be by allies and rivals alike?

_She must've looked like a complete and total idiot._

_Why the hell was she even doing this?_

This bout of self-reflection was all well and good, yet strangely enough she hadn't even noticed her spindly legs; as uncooperative as _always_; changing course without her consent, and turning around to the face the kitchen doorway. As her bitter-black brain queried and quarreled with what little innocence her shriveled and stinking heart had left, she had taken the time to march back into the lounge and circle the sofa. It wasn't until she unloaded with an almighty burst of rage that shook the very foundations of the room that she'd realised what she was doing.

_Time's up._

**"_Why_?!" **Kokonoe shouted with bestial emotional, her amber eyes large and wide with nothing but anger and disdain to show for it. Her thumping heart had made the ultimate ploy, and was eagerly speaking out without her mind's consent – what had been a gentle tip of the kettle to Litchi now being the bursting of the _floodgates_ before the confused and shocked Ragna. **"_Why_ are you gone _all_ the time?!"** she howled, stomping her foot down on the rugged and shaggy carpet. It was easy to ignore the sharp pain that shook through her leg, as she paused for a moment to collect her breath. **"... Where the _hell_ do you _go_?!"**

Ragna was taken aback to say the least, staring at her with something akin to dismay upon his expression. All Kokonoe could do was continue breathing deeply, panting with fatigue from the power of her welled fury. Throughout the entirety of the ensuing silence, she was made to live with the realisation of what she'd just done - the _fears_ and _phobias_ that she'd spouted out and revealed to the man she feared most. The maid swallowed with a fragile gasp, coughing with a bitter wetness before letting her head fall into another, flat, emotionless bow. Ragna remained cautious in worry, fearing the volatility of the situation. **"... _Koko_?"**

Following a moment of hanging her head in the truest of shame, Kokonoe raised her neck once again as she pushed her spectacles against the bridge of her nose – her blank expression entirely ignorant to the clear red and damp nature of her eyes. **"D-Dinner's almost…"** she sighed airily, licking her lips without a hint of modesty.** "… It's _almost_ ready, sir…"** she insisted forcefully, putting strained emphasis on her words to prevent stupid and pathetic fear-induced stutters.

_Although there was no point in hiding what she was._

_Stupid._

_Pathetic._

With that said she tried her damndest to shuffle off upon her brown loafers, but Ragna quickly pulled himself to his feet to cut her off with confrontation clear on his mind. Narrowly avoiding a head-on collision into his bulky chest, Kokonoe came to a realisation that she was _completely_ defenceless. She did what she did best; she tried to get around him, _desperate_ to escape the inevitable as it stared her right in the face. **"Kokonoe, _stop_."** Ragna growled with his burly baritone, trying to catch her line of sight. Kokonoe was quick to dodge his gaze, staring to side like an unruly child before their kneeling father. **"Look at me."**

Kokonoe continued to veer left with her stare, biting onto her now mangled and chapped lower lip to prevent her wimpy mewling and whimpers from escaping her throat. She hadn't a damned clue how it'd come down to _this_ – she had _no_ ideas left, and no more excuses to fall to in self-defence. Like it or not, the bitter professor was well and truly _alone_ - shit creek without a paddle.

**"Damn it, Koko. Don't be like _this_."** Ragna scowled aggressively, doing his best to keep his tone reasonably calm amidst his rising frustration. Try as he might, he was never the most talented at hiding his discomfort - it wasn't something he was best pleased about. Testingly he reached for her slight and timid hand, squeezing it tightly within his warm and firm grip. **"You're scaring the _hell_ out of me."** he admitted, raising his free palm to caress her solemn cheek. Kokonoe quickly flinched as if she'd been struck by static, roughly moving her head away from his affectionate gesture. He shuddered, scrunching his palm into a rounded fist as it retreated. **"Tell me what's wrong. _Please_."**

A gentle tug of her hand tried to pull her close - so she could bathe and breathe in his counsel - yet she refused to budge from her spot. Spitefully she turned her head to face him, the bells and tassels of her hair, blouse, dress and tails all jingling to punctuate a change in tone and mannerism. **"_Everything." _**she hissed bitterly, her angered frown a polar opposite to her betrayed and wobbling eyes. **"_Everything's _wrong."**

_Could she even list what was right?  
><em>

**"You're _never_ here…"** she spat, returning the negotiating squeeze of Ragna's fingers with her own vise-like fury. Of course to the large and powerful man it was a mere insect bite, but for her it vented her rage into a _single_ gesture of revolution. **"You… You never let me know what's _happening_. What's going _on_…"** her arm shivered with strain; she was causing more damage to _herself_ with her bone-snapping grip. Sneering with dissentious and flared nostrils, the fancifully clad woman glared at the source of all her sorrows. **"D-Do you _know_ what it's like?"**

Ragna's blinking eyes said it all, as his beating heart stumbled for stable ground for the briefest of moments – he hadn't even _realised _how little he'd spoken of his dealings to others, let alone to his _lover_. **"No."** he admitted quietly, raising his chin in shame - to submit to Kokonoe's righteous judgement.** "No I don't."**

**"What if you'd _left_ me?"** she pressed, closing what little distance remained between the two in this heated one-way exchange. **"What if you _never_ came back home?"** Kokonoe exclaimed in interrogation, hitting his barrel-like chest with the ball of her palm harshly. Ragna registered no pain at this feeble gesture, letting her vent out her hatred - she deserved that, at the very _least_. **"What… W-What if you _died_!?"**

**"I…"** he faltered, exhaling in self-loathing.** "I-I don't know…"**

Kokonoe did her best to swallow her emerging tears, doing whatever she could to calm herself down and wrestle back some self control. Yet no matter how hard she tried there was no use - she doubted that _anything_ could stop her need to speak and set the tables straight. Another pathetic swing was sent at Ragna's chest, deflected by his muscle weakly. **"D-Didn't we _promise_ eachother?"** she stuttered, a shuddering breath gasping from betwixt her lips. Ragna's brow curled with sorrow as she spoke.** "Promise that there'd be _no _secrets?"** Kokonoe swung her head against his chest in one last display of anarchy, her legs stiff in balance as she brooded. Her voice cracked meekly. **"... We _promised_."**

_A shoulder to lie on._

_One for the other._

It was sickening, but she _enjoyed_ the silence. She _adored_ a moment of nothingness - where for just a tad bit longer, she could pretend that _everything_ was fine. Because god _forbid_, whatever came next would turn her life in a spiral to _who_ knows where. Rightfully so, Kokonoe was quite surprised as a pair of large and domineering arms wrapped across her stick-thin form and pulled her close; an emotional, caring embrace from Ragna himself. She gasped with confusion and a desire for distance, her teeth briefly chattering. **"L-Let _go_ of me…"**

**"No."**

**"I… I-I _mean_ it."** Kokonoe insisted, refusing to return his gesture like he'd probably like. She could feel her legs struggling to maintain balance; Ragna's grip almost lifting her from the ground and leaving her toes dangling for a surface. **"Let go…**"

**"I said no."** Ragna reminded, readjusting the arrangement of his splay palms. While the cuddle felt rather uncomfortable and awkward, it was still incredibly calming. He'd never been one to appreciate the power of a nice hug from time to time until recently, having been neglected the right to enjoy them for the majority of his time kicking. After a few moments he could've sworn that he'd heard a long, drawn out chorus of spaced sniffles, feeling Kokonoe's slight nose nudging against his chest. **"… Are you _crying_?"**

**"N-No I'm _not_." **she shook her head, inadvertently nuzzling him.

**"I think you are."** Ragna insisted, feeling the warm trickle of salty tears running down his chest and fizzling away into the air. To think that his terrible communication skills had led to this strange situation - the woman he loved broken into tears, and clad from head to toe in a peculiar looking set of garments. He wasn't _quite_ sure about the latter part, but if one thing was for sure it was that he felt _terrible_ about it.

Beyond all expectations the lady herself surrendered to that alone, clutching onto him tightly and letting the tears flow. Light sobs were muffled against him, as Kokonoe clung onto his body needily - like a young, lonely child with nothing but her teddy bear to comfort her. Her voice croaked between sobs, almost entirely hushed by his chest alone. **"… T-That makes _one_ of us."**

Ragna's forced chuckle felt far too fake to leave hanging in the air, as he quickly fell back to words. **"… I didn't realise."** he admitted in disgrace, squeezing Kokonoe's padded shoulders firmly. Her trembling began to slow under his touch - reassurance that she was free to loosen the reins on her emotions that she often left fastened tight for days. **"I've been such an _idiot_."**

Thankfully Kokonoe saw the humour in _that_ - she wasn't lost, that's for sure.** "... _Yeah_."**

The renegade sighed with irritation, shaking his head in disbelief as he recalled the past few weeks. **"The NOL… All of that _crap_…"** he offered, gently shrugging his shoulders as to not disturb her. Trying to structure your life around a world that was collectively after your throat tended to be quite the nuisance - it'd taken so much of his attention that he'd forgotten what should've been more important to him. **"I've just been so _preoccupied_ that… Well…"** Ragna smirked to himself dryly.** "… I don't think that's a very good excuse."**

Kokonoe could still feel the streaks of tears that striped her pale face and left smudged black across her eyelashes, but her sobbing had found itself paused for the moment. What had once been anger had dissipated in its entirety, and been replaced with a rapidly growing tang of guilt and realisation – she hadn't _exactly_ been in the right, had she? She'd been so focused on accusing Ragna of being wrong and betraying her trust that she hadn't even began to consider his _own_ problems. The complications and difficulties of the journey that was thrusted upon him were _beyond _her comprehension, yet she'd been so selfish and cruel to abandon his side and turn on him with there merest step away from what she saw as right.

_She didn't deserve him.  
><em>

As if his limbs were faltering Ragna slowly began to kneel; which Kokonoe mimicked in unison, creasing her already disheveled dress. It felt far more comfortable in a more settled stance where they could rest their legs, as Ragna tenderly rested his chin atop the soft mat of her pink head of hair. **"All I can do is say _sorry_ I guess."** he whispered, **"… I ballsed up. _Big_ time."**

_"I'm the one at fault."_

_For some reason, she just couldn't say it._

_It took a certain breed of courage to admit that you were wrong._

She hated being so needy, but there was nothing that she could do. Sometimes fear could just blind you; stop you from wielding reason over fear and anxiety, and it left you in _tatters_. **"I-I thought you'd _left_ me…"** Kokonoe sniffled, practically _dehydrated_ by sweat and tears over the past few hours.** "I just… I just didn't want to lose anyone else… Not _again_."**

A warm snicker punctuated his movement as Ragna pulled away, looking upon his love with wonder plastered onto his chops. Kokonoe looked quite _cute_ when she dressed up for an occasion; he admired what the strange outfit brought out in her, and made a gorgeous woman all the more attractive. He never thought he'd see the day where Kokonoe - of _all_ people - would dress up in such a silly and endearing manner. **"I don't know if I should feel _insulted_."**

Kokonoe tilted her head slightly, wide-eyed as she mouthed. **"H-Huh?"**

**"To think that I'd _ever _leave you."** Ragna shook his head, his expression frank. **"I'm a _stubborn_ bastard, Koko. You _know_ that."**

_The bastard she'd fallen in love with in the first place.  
><em>

Serenity gracing her lips, Kokonoe gave Ragna the emotional smile that he was dreaming would wipe away the doubt. Eagerly Kokonoe returned his embrace - while painful, it was _certainly_ jam packed with emotion and affection. Verbs and adjectives quickly melted away into mere breaths and mumbles of love and companionship, although Kokonoe couldn't care less about it. She may have felt like shite for being a crying wreck, but why _would _she care now? Ragna wasn't going to leave her, and that was _all_ she needed to hear.

Keeled over in their awkward kneel, the pair squeezed eachother in a cradle of understanding and platonic love. It was funny how their relationship had begun; two hormonal newbies after nothing but _sex_ and _snogs_, and with no idea of the long term implications of romance. Now they were more than mere lovers – they were _family_; they were in it _together_. Ragna mumbled warmly, **"It'll all be _fine_, I… I _promise_."**

Kokonoe sniffled in a bare response, only to fall into a chorus of chuckles rather cutely. Her eyes almost seemed to twinkle with old tears; what had once been rage and despair having withered away in favour of a surprising dose of optimism. She'd never been an optimist before - it felt _good_. **"You were right."** she sighed dreamily, her boney palms patting his chest condescendingly. Ragna pulled back curiously only for her to rest her chin on his broad shoulder; while stiff and hard, its presence alone was enough to fill her voice with a calming gentility.

**"You're a _stubborn_ bastard, aren't you?"**

X

_(A/N): ... To be fair, I'm quite displeased with how this turned out :l_

_Still, a write up's a write up! This was much cuter in my head, but it just felt convuluted by the time I got to the bits that were supposed to be juicy :(_

_Do not fear! The final chapter lies in wait, where we get a review of the effects of Kokonoe's peculiar attempt to win the heart of her lover!_


	3. The Day in Review

**(A/N): **With the main part of this story done - believe it or not - it appears we've come to the final chapter!

I could spend a long time spoiling what's coming in the blurb but... I don't feel like that today :P

And Christ almighty, this A/N is even more awkward and out of place than the last! I really need to work on these on multichapter stories: I feel like the kid at the back in the school corridor D:

Onwards to the finale!

**WARNING:** Spelling errors, OOC portrayals of everyone and anyone, butchery of canon, peculiar inferences of how relationships work from a 17 year old with no friends, language, cosplay, awkward comedy and a Tsundere Kokonoe!

**Chapter 3: A Day in Review**

To be honest, she hadn't initially intended to return to work the following day. 'though while spongy and bruised and in need of time to rest, her heart and body knew full well that she was needed back at the laboratory. She'd _always_ been the punctual sort; hadn't missed a moment at work since her very first day, no matter how her inclination fared.

Like so many times before she had the _perfect_ excuse to save herself the pain. Seemed strange for such a _gutless _and _craven _woman like herself to have the sort of integrity that refused to take a furlough, yet was more than willing to lie to those closest to her for her own good alone.

_Yeah, in case you couldn't tell she was still hung up on that._

_That she let Ragna take all the blame; all the responsibility._

_A year's sentence for a crime he didn't commit._

Not that you could tell from just looking at her - her expression still bore the generic condescension for every living being for miles on end that it always had, as she quietly paced down the lifeless corridors of Sector Seven - a carrier bag filled to the brim with cutesy garments sat in her hand. She must've been the only case in Kagutsuchi of someone you wanted to look unhappy and spiteful - at least then you knew she was in a neutral mood!

She had to admit, she liked the lab when it was like this; silent and still, as if in a long, drawn out slumber. Of course in a few hours time her subordinates would slowly trickle in through the front doors, and it seemed like many others the laboratory was rather groggy when it stirred. There was no choice: She'd have to cope with the racket of the various virgin scientists and female technicians with dorky laughs and guffaws.

_Who on earth could grin and giggle at eight in the morning?_

_Was she the only normal person this side of the city?_

Lapping the same identical corner she'd seen three minutes ago, Kokonoe spotted the labyrinthine maze of desks and computers that led the way towards salvation; her stalwart office, overlooking the area with the vigilance you'd expect from a nursery teacher.

**"Whose sorry idea was this?" **the professor snarled with contempt, awkwardly contorting her bony form to try and squeeze it through the tightly-knit shield wall that the tables and chairs seemed to form. She raised a leg and hopped for open space, far too fatigued for a military exercise like this. **"You'd think they'd damn well put a convenient path through the middle, but **_**no**_." she whined, before putting on her best attempt at a snobby, dandy artiste's voice. **"It's**_** abstract**_**, I tell you, **_**abstract**_**!**_** Bastards**_**."**

Strangely enough, she didn't feel quite as bitter as she usually did on a Tuesday morning - helpful, since she felt just as awful as she'd feel on Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays usually. Kokonoe's brow eased its fury as she at last navigated the network of furniture, the welcome weight of her office door standing tall and firm as it always did.

_No matter what she said, it was true._

_She felt happy in a predictable, dull, samey day._

Like a gun from its holster she drew her rusted, crooked key and calmly set it within its lock. One stiff, forceful twist popped the tumbler free, and the door gave way to the room's owner - backing off to accommodate her arrival.

The sight before her didn't surprise her that much, but it certainly filled her with a strong sense of confusion - Litchi Faye-Ling sat at her deskchair comfortably, resting her smooth, luscious legs across the sticky table top. They exchanged a stare - _eight_ eyes in all - punctuated by the occasionally squishy blink. It only seemed right for the superior to speak first, as she pointed out the big issue she had with the situation. **"... I have the **_**only**_** key to this room."**

_"Smug"_ wouldn't be the right word to describe the sheer pride of the grin she flashed, her legs gracefully falling to the ground with a gentle clop of two well-cared for heels. Kokonoe couldn't help but hiss all cat-like under her breath - she _honestly_ wondered how such a gorgeous woman managed to make it to work and back without causing traffic collisions with her assets. **"I know."** she eventually answered collectedly, swiftly turning her superior's hiss into a full on judder of fear. **"... Well then? **_**Come on**_**!"**

Kokonoe lazily nudged the door closed behind her as the giddy goody two-shoes began tapping the dusty floorboards with overwhelming enthusiasm. She wasn't particularly in the mood to chat with her subordinate at the moment - although to be honest, when was she _ever_ in the mood to talk to _anyone_?

**"How'd it go?"** Litchi asked in the seat, entirely ignorant to her boss's inclination as she calmly paced forward. If her smile grew any larger, she would've probably been fined by local law enforcement for being a threat to public health - her shiny white teeth turning the dawning sun's glint into a sharp laser _death_ _ray_. **"Did it work out?"** she pressed on, looking upwards as Kokonoe came ever closer. **"Did Ragna like it? Oh, I bet he **_**loved **_**it!"**

Rubbing her eyes with irritation, Kokonoe circled behind the tall woman with uniform efficiency. Her hands clamped onto her shoulders, gently lifted her to her feet, and nudged her away before taking her rightful place on her desk chair. Of course, that made little impact on that _shit-eating_ grin of hers.

_Thankfully it wasn't contagious._

_Litchi seemed to be a terminal case of life-threatening optimism._

With a dull slap she let the carrier bag fall to the ground beside her, letting it sag and flop sideways like a sack of beans. She _desperately _needed a fix of sugar - jelly babies, winegums, hell she'd gladly eat an _orange_ gummy bear to sate her needs. Like a starving refugee she forked through her trouser pockets, feeling for any lollipops or chewy sweets she had left to spare.

**"Come on!"** Litchi repeated sadly, forcing a puppy-dog pout to try and childishly get her own way. Kokonoe smirked with satisfaction as she drew a drumstick lolly from the folds of her clothing, quickly getting to work on unwrapping it. This made her subordinate fume with impatience - all the better; entertainment while she ate! **"I bet you had all sorts of **_**fun**_**!"** she predicted, exhaling like a dreamy princess looking out of her window. Her eyes fluttered into a perverse stare, as her voice fell into a husky whisper. **"Must've been **_**hot.**_**"**

_Oh, god damn it._

Kokonoe hacked and sputtered with surprise, hitting her chest with her fist to regain her composure. Part of her knew that Litchi had said those words purposefully to get her talking - but the vast majority of her fatigued mind was more defensive than a cheating spouse. **"Shut it!"** she instantly fell to, falling into Litchi's manicured hands like a fly in a spider's web. Kokonoe stuttered with feigned withdrawal, putting the facts straight. **"... I-I'll have you **_**know**_** that we were up all night."**

They hadn't left each other's side for a moment, 'less the other fell into a teary-eyed mess with no one to turn to. It was almost as if they were making up for the nights and days that they had missed together - within a boiling embrace, with nothing but their trembling jaws and beating hearts making a motion. It'd been hard enough to break free in the morning; curled up comfortably across the living room floor, snuggled close against Ragna's chest. Neither of them had had much sleep that night.

_Of course Litchi didn't hear that._

_She heard exactly what she wanted to hear._

Litchi smirked with elevation, glad to hear of their triumph. **"Up all **_**night**_** you say?"** she repeated, easily imagining a dumbfounded Ragna falling head over heels for Kokonoe's skilled seductive prowess. **"Heh, seems our little ploy worked its magic. It **_**must've**_** been the dress!" **Litchi gestured at the carrier bag by the desk, noting the roughly-screwed up bundle that had once been a pristine maid dress. No doubt it'd been thrown aside in a fit of lust and ecstasy as Ragna stripped her bare with heat! Kokonoe's reddened cheeks and pouty expression only added fuel to the fire. **"Don't worry, it's **_**machine**_** washable."**

The professor shot a glance at the higgedly-piggedly pile of clothing; the product of a lazy, exhausted person clumsily getting dressed for work at 5 in the morning. **"Y-Yeah." **she acknowledged shyly, deciding to go along with Litchi's assessment. It was typical; just like before, she was unable to get the truth across. Her shoulders fell in defeat under Litchi's gaze,** "... I guess."**

**"I'm glad that it worked out for you, Kokonoe." **Litchi smiled serenely, honestly pleased that her bitter friend had managed to wrestle with her love life and find a firm hold on it once more. With her characteristic poise she reached over for the bag containing the prize of her wardrobe - somehow managing to make the holding of an orange plastic bag from the local corner shop look majestic and womanly. A fist rested at her hip, **"I **_**told**_** you that it'd all be just one big misunderstanding, didn't it?"**

A solemn nod was all that it got, as Kokonoe stared at her desk absently - gently suckling on her lollipop for the sugar it provided. **"All of it, yeah." **she acknowledged, always eager to avoid confrontation. Litchi, Ragna; she just _couldn't_ say the truth; couldn't _face_ it. **"... One big misunderstanding."**

Litchi was no fool, despite the image she often portrayed. It was obvious that something was amiss - Kokonoe'd gone for several minutes without uttering a _single_ curse, or making a comment dripping like fat from a fryer with snark and superiority. She filled this moment of thought with her usual happy-go-lucky rambling. **"Well then, I wish you the best!" **the woman announced, turning to make her exit. Kokonoe continued to look off into nothingness, her expression solemn with uncertainty. **"... Remember that I'm **_**here**_** for you. Okay?"**

_She honestly wondered if the professor forgot._

_Always the one to wallow on her own._

This was acknowledged - _barely_ - with a quiet mewl. **"Mmhmm."** Kokonoe exhaled, her finger and thumb twiddling with the titular stick of her drumstick's length. The offer stood in front of a steep cliff, tip-toeing over the chasm like a drunken sailor on the piss. She would've considered whether or not to reach out and pull the offer towards her, but she was already acting on it before she could even think. **"... Hey, **_**wait**_**."**

The tall lady froze mid-stride as Kokonoe spoke, looking very much like a deer in the headlights of a combine harvester. Although once she thought about it, if she was an innocent deer then Kokonoe must've been a cute little kitty cat falling for the bait of a trap. Litchi turned her head - her body still mid step, adding to the general creepiness in the air. **"Yes...?"**

Kokonoe fidgeted on the spot as Litchi's bright eyes locked onto her once more, her bare elbows taking a seat on the computer desk as she gnawed nervously on her drumstick. She'd just hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire over the course of three seconds; she had no choice but to make something out of the situation she'd just thrown herself at. Quietly she spoke, a mere murmur muffled by her nibbling teeth. **"... I did something **_**wrong**_**."**

Subordinate or not, Litchi was always eager to lend a helping hand - perhaps _too_ eager in some cases, if you had a bleak enough outlook on life. Like a twirling ballerina she spun on her heels to face the professor, clutching onto the carrier bag at her front with both hands.** "What do you mean?"**

Her hands cupped her chin hopelessly, her fingers drumming at her cheeks as the lollipop stick wiggled between her lips. **"... I-I said things I **_**shouldn't**_** have said."** she admitted, pausing with doubt only to begin again: she had to trust the woman before her. Did she really have any reason _not _to? **"... And didn't say what I **_**should've**_** said."**

_That was a mouthful and a half._

Litchi smirked in that familiar and playful manner that she always did, shaking her head in disbelief towards Kokonoe's worries. **"Oh, I'm sure it's **_**nothing**_**."** she reassured, setting the bag down once more. More often than not people dwelled on their past actions for far too long, making up all sorts of issues from nowhere. What she felt was a cardinal sin likely had little - if _any_ - effect on Ragna. **"You'd never hurt **_**his **_**feelings, it's just not **_**you.**_**"**

Shew as reluctant to accept those reassuring words, gently tugging at the lollipop stick and prying it free from her mouth. **"All of this time, he..."** Kokonoe's brow furrowed in self-loathing, pained to reflect on the realisation she'd had the night before. **"He was just as worried as **_**I**_** was."** her hands slid to her eyes, rubbing her blackened eyelids. **"... I was the one who did something **_**wrong**_**, Litchi."**

For once, Litchi didn't quite know what to say. **"... Hmm?"** she hummed questionably, her arms folding across her chest. Kokonoe maintained her downwards glare - _anything_ to dodge her eyes, _and _her bulging bust. **"What do you mean?"**

The talkative fervour of last night returned in a milder dose, as Kokonoe broke out into a complaining mess once more. **"From the **_**start**_**." **she insisted, stubborn within her self-doubt. **"Yesterday, when we spoke. I practically **_**decided **_**that he was abandoning me."** she snarled, her voice muffled by her covering palms. It was disgusting to reflect on - she _wanted_ to be the victim, didn't she? Her fingers spread open, her golden eyes finding Litchi's own within seconds. **"Like the little **_**bitch**_** I am. A-Aren't lovers meant to be **_**faithful**_**?"**

Like a trained professional - mind you, she probably _was_ a trained professional - Litchi quickly went to placating the panicked professor. So many people in her situation felt like they were the only person in the world to have such issues; how _wrong_ she was. **"You were just **_**scared**_**, Kokonoe."** she reached for the desk, leaning against it like the chairman of the board. Her expression became serious, as she furrowed her brow all business-like like the Wolf of Kagutsuchi. **"Fear **_**controls**_** the fearful."**

Retreating from their hold Kokonoe's hands returned to her chin, her digits returning to the peculiar beat that they'd drummed before. She certainly _was _scared; her entire life was on the verge of collapsing around her. Still, was it right to assume what she'd assumed? That Ragna of _all _people would turn on her? She sulked grumpily, staring at a coffee mug ring. **"... That sounded pretty wise."**

She was glad that she picked up on that, her form becoming feminine and flattered once more**. "Got it from a kid's film."** Litchi noted eagerly, fixing an invisible tie as if she was the star of an open-mic night. Taking a moment to be well and truly pleased, she suddenly returned to her broad-shouldered and commanding position. **"... There was nothing **_**wrong**_** with what you did!"**

Kokonoe was having none of that, stumbling for more reasons why she was in the shit. She didn't quite know why, yet even after all of her revelations she couldn't help but _desire_ to whine. **"B-But he took responsibility for it all."** she pointed out, her expression that of a young and lost child. Whatever he was up to now, he was probably reflecting just as she was. He probably felt even _worse_, despite having done nothing wrong. **"... He thinks **_**all**_** of this is his fault, but I... I couldn't admit it."** Kokonoe inadvertently told to her, tilting her head to the side in shame. **"Like the **_**shitty**_** coward I am, I couldn't damn well say it."**

**"You're saying it to **_**me**_**."** Litchi pointed out simply, the ring of Kokonoe's bell-adorned tails punctuating her realisation as she flinched in fright.** "That's brave enough." **

_It was a start._

Maybe, just maybe, she was being too hard on herself? What little she knew about the workings of love and war came from crappy books and even crappier gossip - all of those cringe worthy tales of successful loves, and soap opera-esque flirts. It was unreasonable to think that everything would fall into her open palm. There was a reason why lovers had to stick together as family; to work as one, and to approach the struggles ahead with each other's support. Wasn't that what Litchi had been trying to say since the start?

The professor was eventually pried away from her thoughts by a fit of womanly giggles, as Litchi backed away with a bowed head. **"... Don't pout like that, my **_**poor**_** old heart!"**

Kokonoe flushed with embarrassment, forcing her cutesy pout into a more harsh and pragmatic frown. There was no helping that woman sometimes, but she certainly didn't want her to have a heart attack - the funeral would cost a _fortune_,and she wasn't exactly eager to pay up. Leaning to the left she continued to fish through her deep trouser pockets, procuring _another _sweet - which she offered to her subordinate with an outstretched hand. **"Here."**

**"... A **_**lolly**_**?"** Litchi said quizzically, like a toddler repeating her first word five times over. Kokonoe actually took a moment to glance at it to make sure she was correct - indeed, it was a lolly. A lemon and lime flavoured one to be hesitantly reached for it, raising an eyebrow.** "What's this for?"**

_Good question._

Just before Litchi could take hold, Kokonoe pulled her arm back and gave the lollipop a look over. It must've lasted at least a minute, before she mumbled a comment unenthusiastically. **"... The **_**hell**_** if I know."** her fingers twiddled the stick. It must've just been a spur of the moment thing; likely had a deep metaphorical meaning within it somewhere.** "It's meant to be symbolic or meaningful or **_**something**_**."** she pointed out, prompting Litchi to nod. Suddenly like an assassin on the warpath her arm shot out, causing the well-endowed woman to reel back in surprise. **"Take it!"**

She swiped it from her grasp gently, forcing a smile to try and ease the sudden change in atmosphere. Kokonoe's hand remained hanging in the air for a moment, before it quickly returned to her desk. Within moments she hung her head, randomly scribbling nonsense on a bit of paper to try and look hard at work - dismissing the woman's existence within a matter of seconds. Litchi's smirk remained, honestly this time. **"You'll be ready soon, Kokonoe."** she reassured, so daring as to pat the bedraggled pink mess the professor called hair twofold. **"Trust me."**

The fact that she didn't lash out and take an eye and an ear was surprising enough, as her pen froze mid-scrawl to appreciate the young woman's gesture. As much as a nuisance as Litchi could be, she could feel a soft spot for her somewhere within her bitter black heart - where something akin to respect sat on its lonesome, free from the snark that surrounded it. **"... Okay."** Kokonoe reluctantly acknowledged, rolling her desk chair away without any particular grace. **"... Just this once."**

That was enough to satisfy her subordinate, who with one last bow turned to leave her with her work. Litchi bent her knees only slightly to reach for the carrier bag, hauling it to her side as she made her way through the unlocked office door. She made sure to let it close as softly as a hanging feather in her wake - she never liked to cause a racket or ruckus when she let a door go.

She couldn't help but think about the dress she held in her hands - and how _cute_ her superior looked clad in it, from the crimson bow on her collar to the cutesy little brown shoes that made her feet look small and graceful. The professor _must've _enjoyed it in some way ; she wouldn't have agreed so quickly in the first place if it weren't the case!

_And all that did was make it even more endearing._

Squeeing like a girl telling all of her friends about her first kiss, she eagerly skipped across the laboratory to collect some papers. If she was willing to dress up again, what else could she try? To be honest, there wasn't much that could beat the loyal and obedient maid archetype. Maybe a cowgirl, or a pirate?

Finding the correct set of notes, Litchi gleefully sorted through them with a pleasant hum in mind. There was no point in dreading the work she was doing; that bore _little _fruit, and only made it last longer in general. The best approach was to keep grinning, and bear with it. Litchi glanced over the desks to spot one of the many scientists of Sector Seven getting to work, staring at the papers and sharing her smirk - he _clearly_ thought the same.

_Or he was staring at her breasts, not the papers._

Suddenly there was a loud crash, followed by a quieter click before the crash occurred again. Litchi threw her head around to see the day's first arrivals doing the same, their eyes all converging on the lab's single coffee machine - and its sole operator.

**"Piece of **_**pissing**_**...!"** Kokonoe screeched, kneeing the counter two times over to try and get her point across. The machine quickly went from spurting random blobs to completely stopping, entirely unwilling to cooperate with the head of the operation. The professor snarled with disgust - no doubt the appliance was self aware; it _never _had these issues with anyone else! She clasped onto its top and shook it like a month-old bottle of ketchup. **"God **_**damn **_**waste of...!"**

Litchi snickered with amusement, settling her sheets and lifting them with an air of effort and strain. Through thick and thin, it seemed Kokonoe would never stop being herself - the same hot-headed brainiac filled with sarcasm that she always was. No matter the pain, no matter the sorrow, she would _never _be broken. Checking her first destination of the day and popping the lolly into her mouth, Litchi took off for floor three - Kokonoe's constant cursing echoing through the corridors.

_Same old, same old._

X

_(A/N): Quite displeased with the end product here, but they can't all be winners can they? :P_

_I certainly enjoyed returning to writing for Kokonoe though. A year is a long time, and writing styles evolve over mere months!_

_I wish everyone a very happy new year! Got all sorts of stories planned... The question is, where do I begin? X_X_


End file.
